To be a cook best grow some hands
To meet your customers demands
They always want what you can’t reach
It hurts a bit, prepare to screech.
To be a cook best grow some hands
To meet your customers demands
They always want what you can’t reach
It hurts a bit, prepare to screech.
November was numbing
And not from the cold
Monotony made me lose touch
And now I’m succumbing
Losing my hold
I need stimulation so much.